


teneō

by gschmitt



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Deviates From Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gschmitt/pseuds/gschmitt
Summary: Noctis did not take the news of his future lightly.To put it simply, he was fed up, and tired of it all. For the first time in his life, he searched for some kind of release—and he found it inyou.





	1. desperation

**Author's Note:**

> So, unfortunately, for now, I have abandoned this story. I'm still thinking of rewriting it or maybe creating a completely different one, but it won't happen for a while. I'm just not as interested in writing 'fics for FFXV at the moment - and I am in another writer's block. So I'm so sorry for everyone who was waiting for this to be updated, but I just wanted to let you all know.

The first thing you were greeted to was an irritating headache. It was mild, but strong enough to awaken you from your deep sleep—which you were enjoying, a bit _too much_. Even though you still couldn’t form a proper, coherent thought, the images of your vivid dream were flashing across your eyes, and you felt the dampness between your legs.

Turning onto your back with a groan, you planned to get out of bed and grab a glass of water, but that was stopped to a halt once you felt your side touch a warm, foreign object, also in your bed—skin. There was somebody else in _your_ bed with you.

Slightly turning your head to the side, you glanced at the stranger to your left. A man. _A shirtless man_. His limbs were sprawled out across the bed, and he was lying on stomach. Glancing down his back, your eyes widened as you saw the marks—the marks that _you_ must have made. They were of nails clawing and scratching against skin. You wanted to jump out of your bed, and kick whoever it was next to you off, and out of your home, but you couldn’t move when the realisation dawned on you. They weren’t dreams; they were memories… _of last night_. The man who was in-between your legs, who wouldn’t stop doing _that_ with his tongue, even though your legs were trembling and tears were trailing down your cheeks because you were still sensitive from being brought over the edge a mere minute ago. The man who was gripping at your hips so tightly that the outline of his fingertips were burned into your skin as he thrust into you at a frantic, animalistic pace was _real_ , living, and breathing—right next to you.

_His hands trailed down your thighs at a teasingly slow pace, relishing the way goose bumps slightly formed at his touch. He had never seen something like this before, something so intoxicating, and so exquisite._

_You looked beautiful like this; legs open for him, back arching at his soft touch, lips parted. He wanted to ravish you, for hours and hours on end. He wanted to be the one to make you beg for him—to beg for more…harder…faster—and he wanted for you to make him forget._

_Leaning down to your heat, his hot breath fluttered against your skin and it took all your self-control to not push yourself up against him. The moment his lips brushed against your folds—which were now slick with your desire, and complete and utter submission—a whine escaped from your lips and your entire body shuddered._

There was no way. It couldn’t have happened. You would never be _that_ intimate—that open and vulnerable, with a stranger. Right? The thoughts of doubt and regret stood still when you heard the movement of skin against fabric, and your eyes made their way to his body again, except this time you weren’t just looking at his back. You had a view of the stranger’s profile, and somehow, the feeling of familiarity was forming. You swore you had seen his face before, and as he moved to get comfortable once again, you realised that you had seen him before. He was no stranger, although you had never met before last night. You knew of him— _everyone_ in Lucis knew of him.

His eyes fluttered open and were met with your curious stare, and for a second, it looked like he almost had no idea where he was.

 

 _The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and of skin against skin were encompassing the room. No matter how hard he tried to bite his bottom lip or grit his teeth, the unholy sounds would escape his mouth and reverberate across every corner of the room. He was growing desperate with every thrust, and he wanted to just_ finish _already—feel his climax building up in the pit of his stomach and then be brought over to the edge—but he also didn’t want to stop._

 _You felt_ just right _clenched around him, arms snaked around his shoulders and nails digging into the skin on his back. He wanted nothing more than to hear you screaming his name. “Call me Sir,” he said breathlessly._

And judging by the look on his face, he remembered. Lifting himself up with one arm, he sighed deeply as he moved the long strands of hair covering his eyes. For some reason, you still couldn’t take your eyes off of him—even though you knew the staring was most likely making him uncomfortable.

Resting his arm on his thigh, his eyes caught yours. _“So…”_ He started, leaning his head against the headboard. Sensing your discomfort and slight shock, he tried his absolute best to lighten the ever-growing tension. “That was one night, huh?” He said. Tried, and failed.

You didn’t have the courage to reply to his lighthearted comment. You wanted to, though, but the conflicting thoughts were too loud inside of your mind, and you were having trouble forming a coherent sentence.

 

_Your palm made its way to his thick, dark hair, and you grabbed as much as you could—giving a sharp tug. A string of unholy words fell from his lips, and his pace was beginning to change into something more rugged, and desperate. As if he wanted to hurry up, but feel even more of you than he already was._

_“Shit. Don’t—don’t call me Sir,” he panted. His hands moved from your hips to your wrists, encircling them with that same strong grip and pinning them above your head. “Don’t call me anything. Just—“ He took one deep breath and his tongue ran across his lower lip, “—just don’t say anything. I want to fuck you so good you can’t say a word.”_

_“And look right at me, dammit.”_

 

He was about to say something again; most likely something to ease the tension, but before he could say the words out loud he stopped himself when he looked right at you. You were starting to regret—not the sex, _definitely not_ the sex…as uncomfortable a one-night stand could possibly be, it was still great sex—your silent approach once you saw the look on his face.

“I…uh— _yeah._ It was one hell of a night.” You glanced down at your own hands, clasped together and twitching slightly. For some odd reason, you were struck with nerves. Ironic, as you weren’t nervous at all last night, and you were twitching for _other reasons_. “Do you do this often? I mean, you probably do, being a Caelum, and all.”

You didn’t mean to use _that_ tone, and you certainly didn’t mean to phrase it _like that_. Nobody likes stereotypes, and nobody wants to be seen as one, either. You know that. _Knew_ that. Before you could apologise, albeit awkwardly and clumsily, he waved his hand dismissively. “Nah,” he said, the corner of his mouth arching upwards slightly. “I’ve never done this before, believe it or not.”

Believing him, you smiled slightly. “That makes two of us,” you added.

 

_As your hands were clenching and unclenching from the tight grip his palms had on your wrists, you looked straight at the man before you, just as he demanded—and you wanted to look away. The depths of his blue eyes were all too revealing. He wasn’t fucking you because he was filled to the brim with desire and unquenchable lust. He was doing this for another unknown reason. You couldn’t label it, especially not just by the look in his eyes, but you knew he was desperate, you knew that he was letting everything go at this moment._

_You weren’t offended. Truthfully. You would savour this moment. If he was fucking you to get over a past relationship, or family troubles, or_ whatever _, you would allow him to forget about it—even if it was just for a short period of time. Even though you knew this was a one-time thing only, you hoped he wouldn’t forget._

_You couldn’t keep your eyes open and on his anymore. The growing heat at the pit of your stomach was now too strong. It wasn’t only at the pit of your stomach—it reached the tips of your toes and fingers, the soles of your feet, your lower back, your temples, and deep down in your chest. It overtook your entire being. You could only comprehend the pleasure that was spreading throughout your body, and nothing else was on your mind. Nothing else mattered._

_It spilled over, in a rush, crashing down and leaving you seeing white. Your eyes clamped shut and legs shook vigorously; back arching and stomach pressed up against his own. The grip on your wrists subsided, and you felt his fingers intertwine with your own—that same desperate, and stronger than necessary grip still present._

_Just like he asked of you, you said nothing. The only sounds that were coming from you were ones of unfiltered pleasure and bliss. Your grip around his hardness was strong, and he felt every convulsion, and the feeling was almost_ too good _that it begun to make him lightheaded._

_Without even noticing it, it crept up on him. The white-hot warmth that was sitting calmly at the bottom of his stomach had now grown to an unbearable amount. And before he could contain himself, all his self-control shattered, and he spilled himself into your heat. It felt like it wouldn’t end; he was releasing more than he ever had before, and you were taking it all. His eyes were closed the entire time—trying to take all the pleasures in the best he could—and he was biting down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, trying to muffle the loud sounds coming from his own mouth that he was not comfortable with hearing, and accepting._

_“Oh, Gods, you feel…” He trailed off, too distracted with you clenching around him and his own frantic thrusts to continue._ You felt amazing _, is what he wanted to say._ This meant more than you can imagine _, is what he wanted to say the most._

The silence was almost insufferable. You had thought the tension that was previously hard to ignore would have subsided, but it was just more evident. There was nothing you could say—nothing he could say. All there was left to do was say those awkward goodbyes, give those bashful downward nods, and continue your monotonous life without ever really thinking about that night again. But the latter would be very hard to do, as your night was spent with a _Caelum_. You supposed that he wouldn’t have a lot of trouble continuing on with his life, and forgetting that night never happened. Although he did say this was the first time he’d ever done anything of this sort before. A lie, most likely. But again, maybe he wasn’t like every other ridiculously wealthy young man.

The Caelum in question— _Noctis_ —lifted himself up from the bed, dressed in the suit he was adorned with from birth, and started to collect his clothes that were thrown across every corner of the room. His trousers were on the dresser, briefs somehow tangled in the lampshade that was now on the floor next to your nightstand, and his shirt was just dangling off the edge of the headboard. _God knows_ where his shoes were. You had a feeling he wanted to stay a bit longer, as he was taking his damn time putting on his clothes that now needed a good ironing and wash. It was appreciated, but all you wanted to do right now was talk a long, hot shower, and at least _try_ to forget this happened—even though you enjoyed every second of it.

He walked towards your bedroom door, and you were glad that you didn’t have to go through the awkward small talk just before you eventually parted ways, but he stopped himself. Scratching the back of his neck, he turned his head slightly towards you, his body still facing the door. “Thanks…for last night,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. And before you could reply, something along the lines of _no problem_ , or _you’re welcome_ , he was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is going to commit to two multi-chaptered 'fics even though they're easily distracted and is afraid of commitment? Me! Just kidding, mostly. I'm putting a lot of time into the two fics I'm working on, and this won't be crossposted on FFNET (because of they're aggravatingly specific rules). You can find it on my tumblr, **[here](https://liberifatalis.tumblr.com/post/168042170302/tene%C5%8D-noctis-x-reader)** , though.
> 
> Anyways, like the tags say, it's _Canon Divergence_. You can't get enough of that good stuff. Don't worry, Noctis won't die here - no way am I going to put myself through that again. But there is political drama (at least, as best as I can describe it), and we're still in the world of Eos, it's just got no...spiritual/magical affiliation with the Astrals, and so on so forth. Smut isn't going to be in every chapter, but the smut isn't as 'slow build' as the romance and real, genuine feelings. So yay for that, I guess?
> 
> Next chapter will be up soon, and longer 


	2. inadequacy

_“What is it you wanted to tell me?” He asked, most of his attention focused on device that was in his hands. Judging from the sounds coming from the phone that was being held by his son’s fingers, he was currently playing a game._

_He sat down on the couch, back upright and demeanor refined as always, and cleared his throat. “I think you may need to put that down before I say anything, son.” Noctis had turned to face him now, and his eyes narrowed at the unusual sternness in his father’s voice. He nodded slightly, and his fingers left the screen and made their way to the side of his phone, switching it off, and he placed it next to his thigh; resting on the leather couch._

_There was no easy way for Regis to tell his son this surprising news, albeit expected. He had been absent, more than usual. Instead of being busy with interviews, or meetings with other companies to form a deal or contract of some sort, he was partaking in a quite regular…get-together…with the rivals of his own company. And what was spoken of during these ‘get-togethers’? His son’s future. More specifically, his son’s future union. At first, when the topic was brought up, Regis had replied with a highly unprofessional laugh, assuming they had to be joking. To his dismay, they weren’t. And as the ‘get-togethers’ began to be more frequent, Regis had realised that this was a carefully constructed political stunt that even he could not free his son out of._

_“With all due respect, this is the biggest absurdity the Niflheim Empire has spewed in decades,” Regis said, noticing the slight scowl forming on the woman’s almost always serene face seated across from him._

_She breathed in and slightly readjusted her collar, eyes not leaving Regis’ and gazing back with a stubborn, determined glint. “It is far from absurd. I am certain that you have thought about it after all our talks, and you refuse to admit out loud that it all makes sense.” Sylva, the head of_ Fleuret Inc. _—the Caelum family’s most resolute and adamant rival—objected._

 _Before all of this, whatever_ this _was, it was just business. It was always just business. Regis would continue pushing the company he owned further, he would not let_ Lucis & Caelum _do anything but prosper and succeed, as that was what all Caelums before him had done. But he had never, ever, wanted his only son to be involved. Of course, in the future, once he passed, his son would have all rights to the company, and would most likely become the next in line as the founder—such is the life of a Caelum—but an arranged marriage, in the hopes of bringing two rival territories together, was something he never wanted to discuss or agree upon._

_“Indeed, I have thought about it. And you are correct; it does make sense. But is there no other way? Have you already agreed to involve your daughter in the politics of this nation?” He questioned, glancing over to the person in question, Lunafreya, who was sitting silently next to her elder brother. “The rivalry between Lucis and Niflheim has existed for centuries—before we were born. I’m afraid that this arranged marriage will not solve this conflict so quickly, and easily.”_

_“We are not the ones who came to this decision, Regis. Our lineage, which have now passed on, did this for us,” Sylva explained, brows now creased together and eyes narrowed. “They had the future of Lucis and Niflheim in mind, and they are not the only ones who want this conflict to end. It had been written long before us. This union **will** happen, and it is not just between Noctis and Lunafreya—it’s between all the people of Lucis and Niflheim.”_

_Lowering his eyes in defeat, Regis knew there was nothing he could say, nor do, to help his son this time._

_His thumb traced over the family heirloom—the Ring of the Lucii, the symbol of the lineage of the Caelum bloodline that have now long passed—placed on the ring finger of his right hand, and he tugged at his lower lip with his teeth. He could feel his son’s intent stare, and hear his impatient nature as he fidgeted in his seat._

_“You have known that I have been quite busy lately,” Regis started. “And the reason as to why I have been busy is…different than usual. For several weeks, I have been in correspondence with those who represent Niflheim, and our main topic of conversation has been of the future of our nations, and_ you _._

_“What?” Noctis asked, brows raised in confusion. He hastily stood up from his spot on the lounge, and pointed an accusatory finger at his father. “There is no way I’m attending another one of those stupid balls with the masks again. You said that would be the last—“_

_“No, do not pay mind to that. That is not what we were discussing,” Regis cut his rant off, shaking his head and lips quirking slightly at his son’s annoyance. He had wished that were what he had to tell his son—that unfortunately, he’d have to dress up for once in his life and put on a fake smile as he greeted Niflheim officials to try and keep the façade up that the two rivaling nations were actually on good terms. Waiting until his son sat back down, he elaborated. “The future of Niflheim and Lucis has been bestowed upon you, and Lunafreya. You two will marry, once you reach the age of twenty. That is what has been requested of our lineage, the Caelums and also the Fleurets before us, and their request shall be acknowledged.”_

_Noctis did not show any visible signs of denial or discomfort, and for a second, Regis thought that he may have not spoken clearly or elaborately enough, and he was about to speak up again, until he saw his son’s head lower. Regis had recognised_ it _immediately; it was that same feeling of defeat Regis had felt the last time he spoke to Lady Sylva._

_He wished he could rest a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder, or at least say something to make him feel better, but he knew it was not possible. Regis could not be a father at this moment, he could not be a father to his son as his future was decided for him before he could even have a single say about it. Regis had never felt so small and insignificant—so inadequate—in his life. And he could not have imagined what his son was feeling, nor did he want to._

_Noctis raised his head, and Regis could see the anger through the faint creases now forming between his brows and the slight snarl at the corner of his mouth. “This is…that’s just bullshit. All of it is. I don’t even get to choose my future wife? And I only have—“ Noctis sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How long have you known about this?”_

_“For a while, now. We have been corresponding in person for almost a month,” Regis answered coolly._

_Noctis leaned his head back against the couch and rested his eyes, trying to deter the growing frustration and anger. It worked, mostly, but there was still a hint of bitterness in his voice as he spoke. “I guess there’s nothing either of us can do, then.”_

_There was no point of apologising, Regis knew that if he muttered a sorry out of condolence it would only make Noctis more annoyed. Grunting softly, he lifted himself up from the lounge and made his way to the door without a word. Before he left, he glanced at his son one last time—head still leaning back against the couch and eyes closed in deep thought—and hoped that somehow, when he turned the age of twenty, he would be able to walk away._

 

* * *

 

Before you could even close the car door behind you, you were greeted with an overly affectionate, and a _very_ greasy blonde who was now almost crushing your lungs with her surprisingly strong grip.

“H-hey. You can let go of me now!” You said, voice not even reaching an octave above a whisper as she continued to somehow pull you closer towards her frame.

“It seems like I miss you a lot more than you miss me,” Cindy smiled brightly, releasing you from her grip and resting both of her hands on your shoulders. “When I heard you were stoppin’ by at a place like this to come visit, I was over the moon. I didn’t think I’d see my lil’ sis again for a long time! Let’s head over to the diner after work is all done and we’ll eat a whole plate of ribs, just like old times.”

“ _Old times?_ That was just two years ago,” you playfully flicked the edge of her hat and laughed. “And we’ll eat _some_ ribs, but not a whole plate of ‘em this time. Do you ever learn your lesson?”

Walking over with you over to a small, round table underneath a large umbrella and set down your bags. Not wasting any time on getting comfortable and making yourself feel at home, you slumped into one of the chairs and lifted your legs up. It was a _long_ drive, longer than you had expected. And it was easy to feel at home and comfortable, as you had been here many times before, although the place had changed slightly.

Looking around, you realised that Cindy’s old man, Cid, wasn’t anywhere around, and before you could ask her where he was, she already answered your question before it was spoken. “Cid’s helpin’ some guys with their old truck. He knows you’re here, though, so he’ll come say hello soon. I ain’t the only one who misses you.”

You smiled at that. “Yeah, I missed both of you a lot. It’s good to be back.” Placing a hand over your eyes to hide the sun’s strong glare, you turned your body towards her. “Don’t miss this heat, though.”

“Well, I want you to tell me all about how it’s like livin’ in the Crown City, and _especially_ about all those fancy lookin’ cars!”

Two years, and Cindy hadn’t changed a bit. She was still the same blonde-haired, greasy gearhead that she had always been. Insomnia was great, and all, but it could not beat Leide—even though you could not stand the heat. Leide was all homey, and hard work, and smiling to strangers that walked past you. Insomnia, the _‘Crown City’_ as it’s unofficially called, was nothing like that. It was busy, chaotic, and it was rare to be smiled at by a stranger. Even though you had lived there for two years now, in a quaint apartment, you still didn’t feel like you had fit in just yet.

You missed people like Cindy, Cid, and Takka, and every other face you had seen during your time spent there—you missed Cindy and Cid. You never understood their interests in mechanics, even though you did work at Hammerhead for some time, but you didn’t question it, and you enjoyed listening to them talk for hours about fixing up beat up cars and engines. _It was home_. And you missed home.

So of course, when Cindy asked you to tell her all about Insomnia, and how it was like to live there, you didn’t spare any details. You talked about everything—from the first day you arrived, the day you moved everything into your apartment, and to the day you enrolled into the University of Insomnia. And the entire time you were speaking to her, you had to try your hardest to not tear up. _You missed this_. All of this. The way she was so happy to just hear you talk, the way her eyes would widen and sparkle when you spoke about the technology and cars (even though you weren’t really well-versed in either of those things), and just having someone there to listen. After the first month in Insomnia, you really wanted to just pack your bags and go back home to Leide, and run into Hammerhead and straight to Cindy. It took all your self-control not to call her up at midnight and tell her you were _so alone._ But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Asking for help was the last thing you’d do. And you wanted this, you _really_ wanted this; the independence, the city life, the late night studying. All of it.

You didn’t tell her about _that_ night, though. The night that happened around two weeks ago. _Hey, Cindy, guess what? I took a Caelum to bed with me. No, not the old guy, Noctis. Yeah, **Noctis Lucis Caelum** , _is what you desperately wanted to whisper into her ear _. He was really good, too. Really fucking good,_ is what you also wanted to tell her while you covered your mouth to stop the giggling from reaching any other part of the garage.

There was really no way you could tell her. Not only is it unbelievable (not because it’s you, but because it’s _Noctis Lucis Caelum_ ), it seemed…out of character, almost. If you had never expected for such a thing to happen, then obviously, Cindy wouldn’t have expected it, either. Right? It wasn’t that you were afraid to tell her because of her response. No, you knew she was the least judgmental person in the entirety of Lucis—Eos, even. It was just…a strange complex; something that you weren’t ready to come to terms with just yet, or say out loud.

“Wow, that sure sounds like some life,” Cindy said in awe, leaning her elbows on the small table and looking at you with astonishment. She really looked like a proud older sister. _Your_ proud, older sister. “If you ever need anythin’ though, you know you can call us—or even just stop by whenever. We’ll always be here for ya.”

You knew that. You had always known that. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Cindy.”

“Anyways, I wanna show you this truck I’ve been workin’ on. I need help givin’ her a name, and whatnot.” Cindy stood up and stretched her arms, turning towards the truck parked not too far from where you were seated. “You can choose the colour, if you’d like. I personally do like the green it has now, though.” Slowly making your way to the truck, you couldn’t help but smile at Cindy’s ramblings. It felt like old times, just like she had said before.

As you were in Cindy’s passionate speech about the pros and cons of an automatic vehicle compared to a manual one, you failed to take notice of a very hoity-toity, as Cindy would call it—even though she did appreciate every sort of vehicle—car pulling up to the Hammerhead. Cindy noticed it, of course, she absolutely loved taking in new customers, and she _did_ work here.

You heard an _Excuse me Miss_ coming from a man with a very deep, and guttural voice, and you and Cindy were greeted with four young men dressed in all black, who looked like they were _very_ far from wherever they came from. She got straight into action, of course, replying with a bright smile and a cheerful _What can I do for ya?_

“Not too much, I hope. Wouldn’t want to waste such a pretty ladies time,” the man said, flashing a charming grin. “This car seems pretty banged up, we had to push it all the way here. Do you mind looking at it and seeing what’s wrong?”

“Don’t mind at all,” Cindy replied, smiling and walking towards the black car, not hiding the appreciative look on her face. It _was_ a very impressive, polished looking vehicle. These guys were definitely not just a bunch of average travelers. “You fellas mind tellin’ me your names?”

“The name’s Gladio. And this is Ignis,” the man said, pointing to the shorter, but still quite tall man besides him who was dressed very formally with admirably clear glasses. “The short, blonde one over here is Prompto, and this is—“ _Him._ That was Noctis. You froze, eyes widening and friendly smile fading instantly. He had caught your gaze, too, and he was just as visibly surprised as you were.

 _Yeah…_ you’re going to have to tell Cindy now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, it deviates from canon quite a bit, especially it being set in an alternate non-magical universe thingy, kinda. _Whatever it's called._
> 
> Oh, just wanted to say, I really didn't want it make Luna's mother seem like she was rude, or anything - she really isn't, she's still a lovely lady (she has to be, she raised Luna after all), even though she's the one who's advocating for this arranged marriage. It's just how it is. People view writing (see: the amendments, or scripture) very seriously at times. So yeah. Niflheim isn't as big and bad as it is in canon, but it still isn't a walk in the park, if that makes sense? And the whole _Lucis vs. Niflheim_ thing still exists. Just wanted to make those things clear!
> 
> Anyways, yay to this chapter being posted reaaally quickly 
> 
> [ Read on my tumblr **[here](https://liberifatalis.tumblr.com/post/168110503777/tene%C5%8D-noctis-x-reader-chapter-two)** ]


	3. misunderstandings

_“We have all heard the news that Fleuret Inc. will now be promoting and selling_ Magitek _outside of Niflheim. This is a first for not only the company, but for Niflheim, as importation and exportation between the Lucis Kingdom and Niflheim Empire last happened over a century ago.”_

_“Indeed. I am pleased to see that Lucis and Niflheim are now on friendly terms again, as it was long overdue.” Lady Sylva quickly glanced at the row of cameras in front of her and nodded her head in a polite gesture. “May our nations continue to work together for many more years to come.”_

_The interviewer, dressed in what appeared to be a very meticulously ironed blazer, brought the microphone closer to her frame and nodded in agreement. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you about some of the controversy surrounding_ Magitek _. Is that—“ she was interrupted abruptly by two men in black—two of many of the guards of the Nox Fleuret family—and through the speaker lodged in her ear, she heard a crew member of the news team tell her that question was ‘off limits’._

_“Oh, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry,” she apologised, bowing her head down slightly at Lady Sylva._

_With a wave of her hand, Sylva shooed the two guards away and brought her attention back onto the woman in front of her. “No. It is fine; you have said nothing wrong. I’ll address the controversy for the first and last time. I have seen the comparisons between the Lucis & Caelum _Crystals _and Fleuret Inc.’s_ Magitek _. There_ are _similarities—that is fact, but with that, there also comes differences.”_

_“And what would the differences be?” The interviewer asked._

_“Magitek is created in an entirely different way. It is not from the soil of Eos—it is manufactured by man,” Lady Sylva explained. “The Crystals come from beneath the ground of our planet, and for many centuries, the Caelums have harnessed their energy without exploiting it. But we all have to understand that one day, there will be no Crystals left. It is not a renewable energy source. Once it runs out—it cannot be reused. We have prepared for that day at Fleuret Inc., and we have created a source of energy that can be used over and over again. It is highly advanced and technological, and it is not natural like the Crystals, but it_ will _be the foundation of this planet in the future.”_

_The bright, white flashes from the cameras below were engulfing both Lady Sylva and the news anchor, and it was almost blinding. “How about all the evidence that supports that Magitek does more harm to the planet than good?” The news anchor questioned._

_“There are various ways to minimalise the pollution caused by Magitek. Niflheim has been doing so for decades,” Lady Sylva replied coolly, not missing a beat. Lowering her head slightly, she smiled and outstretched her hand towards the woman before her. “I apologise, but that’s about as long as I can be questioned for. Have a good day.”_

_The news anchor claspd her hand firmly in hers, and returned a smile. After Lady Sylva was escorted away, she turned towards the row of cameras. “Unfortunately, we did not have the chance to ask Lady Sylva about the upcoming union between her youngest, Lunafreya, and our Prince of Lucis,” she said. “Our insiders say that both families are diligently preparing for the day of the wedding. Until next time, this is Cassia Nuntium from the eight o’clock Lucian News.”_

 

* * *

 

Cindy’s expression hardened as she glanced repeatedly at you and Noctis. _Oh, crap._ There’s no way you can play this off.

You cleared your throat and tried your absolute hardest to mask the surprised look on your face. Nodding your head downwards, you slightly smiled at the four men in front of you and introduced yourself. Even though they returned the polite gesture, it was still clear that they too were confused by the reactions you and Noctis had of each other.

“You two know each other?” Cindy asked. _Yes, Cindy, we do. Pretty well, actually. He fucked me. And he does this really_ amazing _thing with his tongue and—_

You shook your head in response, so quick that you almost interrupted her question. “No. Well…doesn’t everybody know of him? He’s a Caelum.” _Good save_.

Cindy turned to face the Caelum in question, and narrowed her eyes. It seemed as if she didn’t actually recognise him at all. “Ah, that’s right!” She exclaimed, eyes returning to their natural disposition and her infamous wide smile making an appearance. “I knew you looked familiar. You havin’ a little fun with the boys before the big day?”

_Big day?_

“Yeah, you could say that,” Noctis said.

“His Highness himself requested that Noctis take a little break a couple weeks before the wedding,” the man with the glasses—Ignis, as you recalled—added.

 ** _Wedding?_** _No_. It couldn’t be. You were not…you _weren’t_ the other woman.

How could you be so stupid? If you had known he was engaged, you would have never slept with him. You had known that he was desperate, yes, but _this_ was the furthest from your mind. You had no idea that he was trying to get one last taste before he tied the knot. You felt used, and _dirty_ , and you didn’t want to be within a mile of him. _You should have known_. He _was_ exactly like every other young, unfairly wealthy man. You couldn’t even lift your head up, as the realisation dawned on you, and it was just _too heavy_. That night should have never happened, you shouldn’t have ever—

“Is everything OK?” Cindy asked, walking closer to you.

You nodded. You didn’t need Cindy, or anyone else, to ask you questions, especially in the state of confusion you were in right now. Hopefully, the Caelum and his friends would leave by sundown, as that would give you a better chance to clear your head. “I just feel a bit sick. I’ll be back,” you said, walking away from the group and heading towards the garage.

You’d have to talk to him, you figured. Confront him. You needed an answer. It would be easy to just isolate yourself until he left along with his friends, and then pretend that you weren’t troubled by what had happened; but too many questions would be eating away at your skin later on. They would never disappear, until you talked to him. And you didn’t want to. You really would rather not. There were a million other things you would prefer to do; eating too many ribs and throwing up for ten minutes after them with Cindy was one of those things. But you weren’t going to avoid this—for your sake.

 

* * *

 

“And where do you think _you’re_ going?”

_Uh-oh._

Turning to the direction of the voice, you grinned in feigned innocence and shrugged your shoulders. “I need some air. Not used to this heat, and all.”

“Well, alrighty then.” Her tone implied that she wasn’t buying your excuse, but you appreciated her not questioning you further. It was most likely obvious you weren’t in a good mood—or at least, a talkative mood. And knowing Cindy, she probably already knew what happened between you and the Caelum before you even had the chance to tell her.

Walking to the direction of the campsite, where _he_ was resting for the night, the desire to forget it all and just turn back was painfully strong and _almost_ unbearable. Almost. Your legs were tense and your fists were clenching and unclenching at your sides. But you had to do this—talk to him, at least. You didn’t even know if you’d actually get the truth out of him, but it was at least worth a shot. He didn’t seem too bad, judging from the conversations you overhead him having with his friends and Cindy. If you had no clue who he really was, you would have assumed he was just a normal guy. _But he wasn’t just a normal guy._ He’s _the_ Prince of Lucis—son of Regis Lucis Caelum, the King, and head of Lucis  & Caelum. _He’s a Caelum_. That fact alone is nerve-wracking and intimidating enough. You may have slept with him; seen him at his most vulnerable state, but you still didn’t _know_ him. You never would.

At last, you finally reached the campsite. From what you could see, they were all huddled around the table next to their caravan, focused on their phones and too distracted to realise that you were walking straight to them. Not even the crackling of the large fire in the centre of the campsite, which signaled that more wood was needed, was grabbing their attention.

“Hey, Noct. Do you know that girl from somewhere?” You froze.

Noctis’ eyes made their way from his phone to the blonde who had questioned him, and he shook his head. “No. Why?”

“The way you two reacted to each other…” Prompto said, not convinced with his friend’s answer. “It was like you had met each other before, or somethin’.”

“Nah, I was just out of it—tired from all that pushing, y’know?”

The blonde exhaled, “I sure am excited for the wedding. Can’t wait to eat all that free food!”

“Can we not talk about the wedding?” Noctis said, voice rising higher than usual and brows creased. He saw the confused look on not only Prompto’s face, but Gladio’s and Ignis’ as well, and he slumped back into his seat and sighed. “It’s just…this is meant to be a break— _our_ break—alright? I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Before Prompto could question him, Ignis had interrupted. “It’s a _political_ union, Prompto.” He shifted in his seat and nudged his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

“Well, yeah. I know that. But don’t you like Luna? Like… _like like_ , her?”

Just before he could answer, all four heads had turned to your direction as a loud _snap!_ came from your foot making contact with a twig. _Damn it all_. Instead of running away, or trying to blend in with the shadows—which is what you _desperately_ wanted to do—you walked up to the four men before they could even think about asking you why you were there.

“Hey.” You cleared your throat and waved slightly, immediately scolding yourself mentally because you knew that you looked sketchy and incredibly awkward and it was not helping your case at all. “Cindy, uh, wanted to talk to Noctis. Somethin’ about the Regalia, I think.” _Ah,_ the perfect excuse. You were an _excellent_ liar.

Noctis’ eyes widened, and all three men had narrowed their eyes at you, not believing your lie at all. Before any of them could question you further, though, Noctis had stood up and walked towards you, turning his head briefly to nod slightly at his friends. “I’ll see what’s up with the Regalia, it’ll only be a minute.” He walked past you, shoulders bumping slightly into your own, heading the direction you came—not acknowledging you at all. He was walking at quite a fast pace, seemingly trying to avoid the inevitable question he would have had to known you were going to ask him, and it took you a good minute or so to eventually catch up to him.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him from gaining more distance between the two of you, and he stopped in his tracks; body turning around to face you.

“What do _you_ want?” He asked, almost sounding angry.

That was definitely not the response you were expecting. You expected something awkward, definitely, but not something that was comparable to contempt.

“I just—“ your eyes gazed to the ground. You couldn’t bear to look directly at him. “You’re just like I thought you’d be.”

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it’s supposed to mean!” You said, voice now raising an octave or two. This was not how it was supposed to go. You were meant to confront him, yes, but you weren’t meant to visibly show how upset—and _fucking pissed off_ —you were. It was meant to be an ‘adult’ conversation. _Whatever the fuck that means_. “You’re _just_ like all those other young, rich men—who sleep around and cheat on their wives. How could you do that? Why would you choose _me_ to do _that_ with? I never would have slept with you if I had known you were engaged, to fucking _Lunafreya_ of all people.”

No. There was nothing wrong with Lunafreya—although some Lucians thought so; since she was a citizen of Niflheim, after all. You truly believed she was a wonderful lady. Beautiful, young, caring, and well spoken—she traveled the world, using her status and wealth to care for those who needed it the most. She had been to places like Galahd, where most people lived in poverty because of the repercussions of past conflicts and wars, and had helped save many lives just from her presence. She was nicknamed the Oracle, in gratitude by all the people she had helped. And although she could have stopped there, gone back to Niflheim and basked in the endless amount of praise, she didn’t. She _kept_ helping people. Lunafreya was someone you admired; someone who you idolised, and strived to be like. You respected her, and that’s why you felt dirty, and used. And that’s why you could not stand _him_.

“Wait, you think I—“

“Do you know how _dirty_ I feel? I can’t believe—I don’t know how I was convinced to sleep with someone like _you_ , but believe me, don’t think I’m going around boasting about it. That’s the last thing I’d do.”

He shifted his feet, crossing his arms and staring at you with disbelief. Exhaling, he shook his head and drummed his fingers on his forearm. “You done now?” He asked coolly.

_No, I’m not fucking—_

“I didn’t cheat on Luna,” he said. Well, that was a lie. They were engaged… _to be married_. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t engaged to her—everybody in Eos knew they were to be wed. That wasn’t something he could deny. “ _Really_. I didn’t cheat on her.”

He sighed at your narrowed eyes and arched brows; you were unconvinced. How could you not be?

“Didn’t you hear Specs? It’s a _political_ union.” Your eyes were still narrowed at him, and your hands made their way to your hips—growing evidently more frustrated each time he opened his mouth. “Look, the marriage is for politics, _not_ love. And why the hell would _you_ feel dirty, anyways?” 

 _Great._ Now you look, _and_ feel exactly like a grade-A bitch. You did, in fact, hear ‘Specs’. You just didn’t comprehend the words he said at the time. And now you felt like an idiot, and you were embarrassed, and you couldn't even look at Noctis anymore. It was ironic. You had no problem looking down on him a second ago, accusing him of being like every other wealthy man who slept around. He could have told you off for your assumptions, _he should have_ , but he didn’t. You wanted to say _thank you_ , and _I’m really sorry_ , but there was just no way any of those words could be said out loud—as you had never felt this shameful in your life.

Turning away from him with your eyes glued on the ground, you attempted to walk away without saying a word, before he quickly stood in front of you—blocking your path.

“Hey, look…” He started, scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t worry about it, alright? I’m not mad, or anything.”

Your eyes softened at his consolation, and looked up at him. “Alright…I am sorry, though.” You turned around and headed back, giving him a friendly smile. The weight on your shoulders that had been making you writhe all day had finally subsided. Noctis was really not like what you thought he’d be—he really wasn’t all that different from everybody else. But you realised you still didn’t know why he did _it_ —you. And that question was something that would keep you awake at night; tossing and turning. You needed to know why. _Yes_ , you knew he was desperate, but that was _all_ you knew. You could connect the dots, but you wanted to hear it from him, instead. And besides, your assumptions have been wrong. You didn’t want to risk another misunderstanding.

“Wait.” You turned back to him, head cocked to the side. “Why did you…do _it_ , then? You said it was your first time doing something like that. Was it because you wanted… _I dunno_ , one last taste of freedom?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he answered. “Honestly, I don’t really know why. It just happened.”

It did just happen. That was the truth. You still didn’t know how it all happened—you can remember everything, from twenty minutes before to twenty minutes after, but it was still quite hazy. It was definitely something impulsive, and raw. And that’s why you were so fond of that night. “Well, ‘night,” you said. “I hope you enjoy your break, and the wedding.”

You could feel his eyes burning through you as you walked away, but you didn’t want to turn around and look at him. It was too dangerous. _He_ was too dangerous. Even when you were angry at him before, you still felt a _pull_ towards him. The mere smell of him was enough to make you dizzy. You knew that if you were given another chance—a chance to see him like _that_ again—you would take it, and then you’d be in too deep. You hoped he left by tomorrow, because the longer he was within walking distance, the harder it was to ignore _that_ _pull_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TLDR** , Lucians dislike Niflheim because Magitek is polluting Eos and isn't a natural energy source, unlike the Crystals. Even though Sylva _is_ right - the Crystals are gonna run out and the world needs to start looking at the future and progressing, pollution is still bad alright. I imagine Niflheim as a heavily industrial nation in a modern!au.
> 
> Anyways, hopefully the next chapter won't take too long to be put up. _(Also, you are a terrible liar. That was sarcasm. You can't lie to save your life)._


	4. apologies

“You really think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at me?”

_Huh?_

Turning around to face him, you planned to retort something a little too sarcastic and cynical, but stopped when you saw the almost-red glint in his eye. It was mesmerizing— _erotic_ , even. He was looking at you like a predator stares down its prey. _Hungry, calculating, greedy_.

“And _how_ was I looking at you, exactly, Prince?” You asked, surprised at the lilt in your tone. You were encouraging him, playing along—enjoying the chase and his hungry glare.

As soon as you blinked, he was right in front of you. You could smell his scent; masculinity and ripe wines and finely stitched silk sheets. His scent suited him—it was that of a wealthy man, that of a future King. _Your_ future King. His placed his index finger underneath your chin, tilting your head up slightly and holding you firmly in place so you couldn’t look anywhere but him.

He was different, you noticed. Different compared to how he acted when he was not in the process of mentally (and eventually, physically) undressing you. He was normal, like every other young man before, at the campsite and at Hammerhead. He transformed into something more _enigmatic_ …more powerful and consuming. You had only done _this_ once before, but it was clear that he was different; his desire for you—for free will, choice and freedom—consumed him, and he wanted it to. _Needed it_. It made him feel like he wasn’t some puppet that could be used for politics of past conflicts he was never involved in.

“Don’t play around with me,” he cooed, eyes focused on your parted lips. “It’s cute. You _really_ don’t have a clue.”

“Have a clue about what?”

He leaned in, inches away from your lips. You could feel his own hot breath brushing against your own, and you had to summon up all of your self-control to not close the distance between you and him and crash your lips onto his. _This wasn’t fair._ He shouldn’t be allowed to tease you like this.

“I missed your taste,” he said. He placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on your skin and a shiver ran down your spine. _Holy shit._ You missed this. _Him_. He trailed his lips up to your pulse, lingering for a few seconds (although it felt like more than that). “ _Gods,_ I need you.”

“Yeah. I can see—”

“ _No._ I need you. I need you to want me. I want to hear you say it.”

“I…” You probably should resist—decline his advances. Whatever _this_ is, it seems _too_ desperate. You don’t want whatever your relationship is to always be like this. It’s nice, to be desired, but it almost didn’t seem worth it if desire was all that was there. _Almost_. Pressing your thighs together, you could feel the dampness between your legs. _Just another taste, what would be so bad about that?_ “I want you. All of you. I have ever since I saw you that night.”

Noctis smirked at your reply, his hands making their way underneath the back of your shirt and grasping the hook of your bra. It was tossed aside before you could even comprehend what he was doing.

His palms trailed from your waist, slowly. _Too slowly_. He groaned through gritted teeth as he finally touched you. You were so warm, so soft—just like he remembered. Pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it God knows where, his lips latched back onto your skin. Teasingly brushing his tongue over one of your hardened buds, his—

_Don’t forget to keep an umbrella nearby, as we’ll be seeing some slight showers over the week._

—other hand trailed down to the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down past your thighs and revealing your visibly soaked panties. _He could smell you_ —smell your want for him, and now his trousers were painfully tight.

_But the sun will be making an appearance for most of the week, and from Thursday onwards, it is going to be hitting record temperatures. Don’t forget to pack the sunscreen and keep the windows closed!_

His palm cupped your heat, and he desperately wanted to slip his fingers inside of you as soon as he heard a lengthy moan leave your lips. But he was going to take his time—be an infuriating tease, making you beg for _more_ , just like the last time. He was an asshole that way.

You felt his hand move, just a bit, and you pushed yourself down slightly against him—

“You’re drooling.”

 _“What?”_ You ask, eyes opening and looking down at him.

“Probably dreamin’ about those delicious ribs we’re gonna eat.”

“Ribs? What are you—” His face, _his fucking ethereal face_ , slightly flushed with red, was now blurred and distorted. You saw his lips opening and closing—speaking to you, telling you something—but you could not make out what he was saying. All you could hear was a high pitched _ringing_ and when you turned around to look at him, make sense of what was happening, he was gone.

“This good-for-nothin’ radio is being a pain again.” You turned to the sound of the voice, eyes reaching up to your face to cover the glare from the sun. Cindy was fiddling with the controls of the radio, and—

 _And it was a dream._ Just _a dream._

It felt real. _Too fucking real_. Glancing down at your collar, you inwardly cringed at the obvious wet patch, and you couldn’t ignore your now-soaked panties. You knew it. Seeing the Prince again was a bad idea. It was _just_ sex, _really good sex_ , but that _pull_ you felt was stronger than you’d ever anticipated. The desire you had felt for him, for his tongue and his hands and his—it was stronger than you thought would be possible. You had never felt this way before, and all over a one-night stand? If you had known this desire, this white-hot lust, would be consuming most of your thoughts and dreams you never would have gone through with it.

It was just desire, and infatuation, after all. It should be easy to get over. That’s what you had assumed, anyway. _And your assumptions have been proven wrong before._

 

* * *

You shouldn’t have worn that in front of him. It just made him think of _that_ night again—and that’s all he’s been thinking about lately.

He doesn’t want to.

He feels wrong for thinking about you in this way. Which would be considered strange, as he _did_ fuck you once. But the whole thing felt dirty, and Noctis supposes that’s why he just can’t stop.

Slowly dragging his hand down his hardened length, he bit down on his free hand to try and stifle his moans. The water falling from the showerhead should have been cover enough, but he was unusually loud this time around. _Because he was thinking of you._

He thinks he should be over this by now. He’s touched himself behind closed doors multiple times now, to the thought of you, and he’s never grown bored of it. He would prefer the real thing, though, but that just wasn’t possible. It wasn’t going to ever be possible. He could only enjoy you for that night, and even though it was killing him, he’d keep it in his memory for as long as he could.

He remembered the way you clenched around him as he entered you deeper than he had originally, and tightened the grip around his length. You were so _pretty_ , moaning for him and opening your legs for him. And when he tasted you for the first time, he knew that he had fucked up. You tasted too good— _too_ sweet. He could only taste you once. He could taste you again, break the rules he enforced on himself, if you both wanted to. But he wouldn’t let himself. It wasn’t fair to either of you.

“ _Ah_. Just like that.”

Muttering into his palm, he bucked into his hands, eyes rolling back. It was so easy to imagine it was your hands, instead of his, wrapped around him. It drove him crazy; knowing that you were metres away from him—close enough for him to touch you, talk to you... _feel you_.

But the distance could not be closed. It would always be there, even if you were standing right in front of him. _There would always be that painful distance_ , where he would want to reach out, but stop himself before he could.

 

* * *

 

“Do you love him?”

She turned to him, and narrowed her eyes at his question. He should have known her answer. It was obvious.

“No. Not in the way I should.”

“Then why—”

“You _know_ why.” She stood up abruptly, walking towards the window overlooking all of Tenebrae. Resting her palm against the glass, she took in all the intricacies of her homeland, which she would not be able call ‘home’ after the union was official. “There is nothing I can do. This path was chosen for me long before I was born.”

He shifted in his seat, eyes cast on the floor. She supposed it was just as difficult for him, seeing as there was nothing even he—a Glaive—could do to help her. She knew he wanted to, and not for _them_ , but for her. He would have done so, even before their relationship had turned intimate. He was just that kind of man; the one who was always helping others, but suffering as a result.

“ _Nyx…_ ” She said, walking towards him with careful steps and placing her hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry. We need to stop this.”

He lifted his head up at that, eyes hardening as if he couldn’t believe she would even suggest such a thing. “But I _want_ this. I want to be with you, Luna.” Nyx held held her hands in his own, thumb brushing over her skin in an effort to comfort her.

“I want this, too,” Luna said. “But we _can’t_. You must understand. If somebody finds out about us, _you_ will be the one dealing with the consequences. I cannot risk that happening to you; I will not allow it.”

“Luna— _Princess_. Please. You have made me so happy,” Nyx pleaded, bringing her hand up to his lips and littering chaste kisses over the flesh. “Don’t we deserve this?”

She couldn’t look at him, not when she had to deny him. If she had looked into his eyes, she would break—relent. She would give in, and she deserved to give in, but she could not. _She had to_. She would not risk Nyx’s safety. And if she had to suffer because of it, so be it. She only wished that he would not be suffering along with her, as denying him would be a lot less painful.

“We do,” Luna said, just above a whisper. Leaning towards him, the man she would have devoted her entire life to, she placed a kiss on his forehead. “It must be done. We cannot be together anymore. Try to forget me.”

 _Please, forget all of this_.

She would never forget. She wouldn’t allow herself to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. /Looks at the _Slow Burn_ tag/ You should have known this was coming!
> 
> This is pretty short, but I couldn't make it longer, even though I tried. It felt too cluttered.


End file.
